Someone mailed me today and mentioned Monday’s “gloomy” entry.
Gloomy?
I reread it, and I see what they mean. But it wasn’t supposed to sound
like that. The intention was to be faintly whimsical, not pessimistic.
Perhaps I should be pessimistic, but I’m not
feeling too down about my running at present. It’s true that the last
two weekends have contained long hangovers in the slots normally
reserved for long runs, but hey, it’s Christmas. I’ve still managed to
get out the door for 3 or 4 restorative miles almost every other
day…. ish, and the last few, including this evening’s, have actually
felt quite brisk. Even… lusty.
I was careful to say “felt” brisk; it’s a strange thing that despite
feeling quite perky during recent lopes, My Bloody Garmin tells me that
I’ve not made a lot of progress on the time front. Perhaps I should
add, to My Bloody Garmin, defective timekeeping to go with the
defective altitude readings and the defective calorie measurement and
to my other complaints: the features implemented less well on the
Forerunner 305 than on its predecessors, and the overhyped (that is,
non-existent from what I can see) improvements in GPS
satellite-locking. What a bunch of bastards.
Er, but I digress.
Mentioning my overall optimism about running at present is a necessary
aperitif to the main item on this evening’s menu: my recent thoughts on
the chances of polishing off April’s Two Oceans Marathon in South
Africa. Let’s face it: they’re not that great. It’s true that I’m a
keen lost-cause gambler, but staking a couple of trans-continental
airfares on the equivalent of a three-legged entrant in the Grand
National, is perhaps one wager too far.
I’ll add the usual caveat: This is nothing to do with negativity or
self-pity or defeatism. I’m just being realistic. Or starting to be
realistic. I’ve not made a definite decision, and won’t do for a few
weeks yet. Who knows? I may suddenly start cookie-cutting 15, 18, 20
milers at an average of under 10:30 to 11:00 a mile, which is the
absolute minimum I’d need to feel confident about getting through 35
miles in under 7 hours. It may happen, but there again, it probably
won’t.
Instead, I’ll be happy to keep knocking out 12-15 miles in midweek and
8, 10, 12 at the weekend for a few weeks, until Almeria at the end of
January, and see where that gets me. Where I hope
(and presume) it will get me, is to a standard marathon in the spring
somewhere. We’ll see.
